


The Black Hawks arc

by MateusCristian



Series: The Breaking of Causality [2]
Category: Berserk (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hopeful Ending, Minor Griffith/Guts (Berserk), Multi, Redemption, Sequel, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:42:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24164560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MateusCristian/pseuds/MateusCristian
Summary: MAKE SURE TO READ PART 1 FIRST!!!With the Horrors of the Eclipse behind them, the remnants of Band of The Hawk continue their path, with their black cloacks and armors as a simbol of the mourning for their brothers, with the hopes of healing their leader. However, the Five Blessed Demonic Angels, the God Hand, have other plans for the Denier.
Relationships: Casca/Guts (Berserk), Charlotte/Griffith (Berserk), Griffith/Guts (Berserk), Judeau (Berserk)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Breaking of Causality [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1703428
Comments: 48
Kudos: 26





	1. The Black Hawks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, Mateus Cristian here, and welcome to the second part of The Struggler and the Denier, the Black Hawks arc. I hope you all enjoy it, please, leave a comment, so I may know your thoughts, and until next chapter.

‘Do you really think that I’ll ever let you go?’

The voice in the darkness echoed, as if coming from within the shadows of Griffith’s soul, a voice and face of his most horrible toughs and wishes.

‘Femto… Get out of my head…’

Said Griffith, his eyes closed, refusing to acknowledge the horrors around him. More sounds started. Screamed, roars of rage and betrayal, rage-filled promises of revenge and hatred, sounds of whips and fires, cracking of bones and clashing of steel, a whirlwind of horrors of the past he suffered, the darkness he denies.

‘ARGH!’

The quick grunt woke Griffith up, blood coming from the Brand on his forehead, and he sees Judeau standing beside him, his right hand holding a dagger, with a one-eyed, squid-like thing impaled on it, his left hand stained with the blood coming from the Brand of Sacrifice. The small commotion woke Guts, Casca, Pippin, and Rickert up.

‘Calm down, guys. Just a little incubus.’

Said Judeau, showing the dead creature.

‘Must have sneaked through the shadows, it’s rather windy here… I told you to make a bigger fire, Guts!’

Said Casca, looking at the few dark spots on the camp, where the bonfire they made to ward off the spirits of the night that kept hunting then did not reach.

‘Oh, so it’s my fault now?’

Said Guts, annoyed. Griffith took the small notebook and piece of charcoal from underneath his pillow and wrote “It’s the third time this week, Guts.”. His handwriting still wobbly, though he got a little better and faster in the 3 months since they started their quest.

‘C’mon! It was just an incubus. And the sun is about to come up!’

Said Guts, pouting. Casca frowned:

‘Yeah, you’re right, it’s just a squib that gives you nightmares and sucks part of your life out! And since the sun is about to rise, and Judeau stood guard all night, you can take care of it from here, and Judeau can get some much-deserved rest!’

Said Casca, sharply. Before Guts could say anything, Judeau already took his boots off, got under his blanket, and all five went back to sleep, leaving Guts with the task of walking around with a torch to keep the spirits away.

‘Fucking assholes…’

Guts groaned, taking the torch, and started shooing the spirits of the dead away from the camp. After 4 hours of this, the rest of the group woke up with the bright sun, dismantled the camp, put the supplies and Griffith back in the wagon, and headed towards the closest town, Pippin driving, Guts snoring on the back.

‘So… We’re running low on bread and water… gunpowder for Guts, crossbow bolts for Guts and Rickert, oil for the blades and Guts arm, fresh bandages for Griffith, logs for the bonfires.’

Said Casca, checking the stock journal that Griffith kept.

‘We should also take some bounties or something else for some coin.’

Said Judeau.

‘I’ll look in the notice board. Hey, can we go through a blacksmith? I wanna know if they could make these pipes here and brass sheets…’

Said Rickert, showing the draft of a project he’s been working on for a while, though no one in the group could quite understand what it was, looking like a crossbow, but with a small trigger and two pipes in the place of the arms. And then they felt. Sharp, like a quick cut, their Brands started to bleed. Guts got up with the pain on his neck. Guts and Griffith looked out of the wagon.

‘Judeau, wanna take care of this? We’ll look into a tavern, get any news on the place.’

Said Guts, pointing at the cart passing by, driven by a buff, bearded man, wearing a rather rustic armor, on the cart, laid a big cage filled with people, mostly women and children, heading towards the fort at the edge of the small town.

‘On it!’

Said Judeau, jumping out of the wagon, and grabbing on the cage, make a signal for the people inside to stay quiet. The wagon with the Hawks kept going into the city, finally hiding in an alley, close to a rather small and old tavern.

‘Rickert, Casca, Pippin, you stay with Griffith. I’ll go alone!’

Said Guts, taking Dragon Slayer and coming down the wagon.

‘Oh, fuck no! Last time you were left alone, we had to bolt out of that town with a pack of dogs and angry old war veterans after us! I’m going with you.’

Said Casca, when he felt the bony hand of Griffith touching her shoulder. He picks his notebook and writes “Casca, you are three months into your pregnancy. You should stay, for you and the baby’s sake. Pippin will go with Guts”. Casca frown:

‘No. I can do it.’

Griffith wrote quickly again “It’s not a matter of “can” or “can’t”. You’re starting to have problems putting your armor on, and don’t you think we didn’t notice you’re in constant pain due to the pregnancy.”, his eyes, surrounded by the edges of his helmet, staring deep on her eyes. She looks down:

‘Be careful you two…’

She said grumbly, getting in the wagon. Pippin came down, his war hammer at hand.

‘Don’t worry! We’ll be here before you have time to miss me.’

Said Guts, stealing a kiss from Casca and heading out, Pippin following close. Casca looked down into the wood of the wagon, caressing her abdomen, feeling the little fragile lump what was to be her child, when Griffith put a paper on her lap. “I know that feeling all too well, Casca. Of being a liability. I assure you, the only one here that is truly is a hindrance is me.”.

‘Griffith… Look, don’t lose hope! We’ll find a way to heal you.’

Griffith wrote again on his notebook: “Casca, I know we have survived a trip through hell itself, and we are now constantly fighting apostles, running from spirits, following a very loose instruction of a skeleton soldier bigger then Pippin, but face the facts: We are wasting our time. I’m thankful for you and Guts, but the king of Midland is going to get down to his knees and apologize to us before I walk and talk again.”, his eyes had almost none of the shine Casca remembered.

‘Guts and Casca are not going to give up on you, Griffith. None of us are! We’ll do it! You’ll walk again!’

Said Rickert. Griffith gave a faint smile, though his hopes were dim. Guts and Pippin stand in front of the tavern, their faces covered by their hoods.

‘Let’s just enter, get any information on the apostle around here, and get the fuck out. Avoid any unnecessary probl…’

Said Guts entering, when the first thing they see is a bunch of horrible looking, smelling, and acting people. Four were holding a young, horrified girl, her breasts exposed:

‘Please Sir, show some mercy… Let my little girl go… s-she never did anything wrong in her life…’

Said the old tavern owner, terrified for his daughter’s sake. The big, muscular bandit laughed and reach for the girl’s crouch:

‘I can see that… Fresh… Don’t worry, old man! We’ll take good care of this whore of yours! Make her a proper woman, hehe… Now bring more wine, if you don’t want us to bring her to the Baron once we’re done!’

Three others were throwing knives at a board:

‘Stop thrashing around, elf! I can’t get a hit! Hehe!’

Said one bald bandit.

‘WHY DON’T YOU UNTIE ME, FATHEAD?! C’MON! I CAN TAKE YOU! I’LL GOUGE YOU EYES OUT! I’LL CLAW YOUR ARTERIES OPEN! YOU’LL FEEL THE WRATH OF THE ELVEN DIMENSION STYLE!’

Screamed the little creature tied to the board. The elf was very small, slightly bigger than a salt shaker, his hair was blue, like his eyes, and spiked upwards, making his head look like a blue chestnut.

‘You know what I just said about avoiding problems, Pippin? Fuck that noise!’

Said Guts, mounting his crossbow into his steel arm. Pippin took his coin purse from his belt, heading towards the panicky tavern owner.

‘Forgive me, sir! My friend over there and I are going to wreck your pub a bit!’

Said Pippin, giving the coin purse to the man’s hand, taking the tankard of wine off his hand, and chugging it down in one move.

‘HEY, YOU FAT FUCK! THAT’S MY WIN…’

Said the bandit, letting go of the tavern owner’s daughter, when Pippin took his war hammer and hit it hard on his head, turn it into red mush. Before the other bandits could react, Guts started turning the crank on his crossbow, hitting head and chests. One of the bandits survived, Guts tried to shoot him, but his crossbow was empty.

‘Oh, Fuck…’

Said Guts, reaching for more bolts. The bandit gave a smug smile, that got quickly wiped out with Pippin’s war hammer hitting him in the testicles, bringing him to his knees in pain.

‘Ouch, Pippin! I know these fuckers deserve it, but holy shit…’

Said Guts, cringing. Guts stabbed the bandit in the nose with one of the bolts, pinning him to the balcony:

‘You are one of the guys from the castle out of the city, right?’

‘Ugh…Y-yes!’

The bandit shrieked nasally.

‘BEHIND YOU!’

Screamed the elf and the young girl in unison. Guts, without looking away, reached for his sword, lifting the huge hunk of iron, and bringing it down on the charging bandit, cutting him from shoulder to hip, and destroying the floor.

‘Good. Do me a favor, punk: tell your master that the remnants of the Band of the Hawk, the Black Hawks, are here, and if he wants the four fuckers’ reward for the Denier’s head, he gotta hurry! Fuck off!’

And Guts threw the bandit out of the parlor.

‘Don’t forget to mention the Denier! Might save your life, prick!’

Said Guts, watching the bandit limp as fast as he could while trying to remove the bolt from his nose.

‘THANK YOU!’

Screamed the girl, falling to her knees, grabbing onto Guts and Pippin’s feet.

‘GOD’S BRE-BESHINGS APON YOU BOF!’

Said girl, crying. Pippin helped her up, handing her to her father.

‘Don’t worry about it. You sir, can you tell us who are these pieces of shit?’

Asked Guts.

‘O-of course, sir! But we don’t know much either; they just showed up 3 months ago, alongside their leader… That man… no… not a man! It’s a beast! A monster…

Said the tavern owner, sending his daughter to the back room.

‘The word you are looking for is “demon”, old man! Or apostle, if you wanna be specific. Beer?’

Said Guts, taking a tankard of the balcony. The old man nodded, taking the tankard, and filling it to the brim.

‘… Well, he’s been attacking the town for the last three months! We always know when they come; they beat those infernal drums as if hell is announcing its presence… We try to get help from the mayor, but he locked himself up in city-hall, and refuses to get out! He abandoned us. People disappear every day, everyone is in pure panic.’

Said the old man, as Guts drank.

‘About the disappearances, a friend of ours is looking into it right now, though, to be honest, we have an idea of what happened to them, and all I can say is I’m sorry…

Said Guts, glumly. In his mind, flashes of his brothers being torn and devoured by the apostles at the Eclipse. The chugged down the tankard:

'...Thanks for the beer!’

Said Guts, putting the tankard on the balcony. He and Pippin headed for the door:

‘HEY! COULD YOU HELP ME OUT HERE?!’

Screamed the elf, still tied to the board. Guts took a knife from his belt, throwing towards the elf, cutting the rope, all without looking back.

‘You’re welcome, bug!’

Said Guts, leaving the parlor. While this was happening, Judeau was reaching the great fort, hidden in the cover of the cage cart. The cart entered a dark warehouse at the back of the fort, Judeau came down from the cart and slit the rider’s throat before he could alert anyone. He took the keys of the cage and the small sword from the driver’s corpse:

‘ _ Stay quiet. I’ll look around a bit and come for you later. _ ’

Whispered Judeau, giving the keys and sword to one man in the cage and heading towards the small entrance. He sneaked through the castle, in shadows and corner, until he heard something that made him stop:

‘The “Denier”, you say…’

Said a raspy and stretched voice, sound excited. Judeau gave a little pick, trying to see the people talking.

‘Y-y-yeah sir… Those fuckers… They killed Ross and the othe…’

Said the bandit Guts and Pippin spared when the being he was talking with turned:

‘And I’ll kill you if the Black Hawks leave this city! Send word to that mayor, to surround the whole town! No one in or out. Prepare my horse, and call everyone left! The Denier’s blood is mine!’

Said the apostle. Judeau gave a good look at it. The apostle was very tall, probably taller than Pippin even, his face was covered by what seemed to be a helmet shaped like a snake’s head, but he could see his eyes, big, yellow, and with straight pupils, like a snake. “I guess this is enough. Gotta warn the others…” Judeau thought to himself, leaving before someone could see him, the people he saved following close behind.

‘What is going on…’

Said Casca, being taken out of her thoughts by the sounds of marching growing louder and louder. She took her sword:

‘Rickert, you stay in here, I’ll see what is going on…’

She said. Griffith reached for her, but she lowered his hand:

‘I’ll come back soon. Don’t you worry about me…’

Casca said smiling, leaving the wagon. She walked for a little while and saw the source of the ruckus.

‘…They use black cloaks, and pins with a symbol of a sword with wings! They attacked the citizen of our good city! Capture if possible, kill if necessary.’

Said a soldier to his group. Casca covered her face with her hood, “Where are you, Pippin, Guts? Is Judeau alright? Rickert and Griffith might need my help, I should go back…”, she thought, looking around, but then she stopped.

‘HEY! THIS WOMAN OVER HERE! SHE’S A BLACK HAWK! STOP HER!’

Screamed one of the guards that walked into her. She quickly drew her sword and cut the man’s throat with a swing, but by then, four more surrounded her. A man with a halberd strikes down, Casca parried the blow to the left with a krumphau, and cut into his shoulder. Another one punched her in the face with a buckler, breaking her nose. This didn’t slow her down, she grasped the edge of her sword, bashed the buckler to the side with the pommel of her sword, and stabbed the point on the gap of the side of the armor. The other two, both with war hammers, charged at her, and Casca hit one in the face with pommel of her sword, kicked the other in the gut, and chopped his head off with a downward swing. The last man recovered from the hit to the face, charging at her again, Casca struck at the guard, he dodged to the right, and she hit him in the face with her knee, putting him on the ground, however, at the final moment:

‘AGH! FUCK! NOT N…’

She grunted. Her abdomen started hurting again. The guard took that moment of distraction, throwing dirt on her face, blinding her, kicked her in the leg, dropping her on the ground. He lifted his war hammer high and quickly, but before he could finish Casca off, a bolt pierced the back of his neck, coming out of the front of his face.

‘Casca, are you alright?’

Asked Rickert, running towards Casca with a crossbow on his hands.

‘Rickert…? Why are you here?! What about Griffith?’

Asked Casca, angry. Rickert helped her up:

‘They attacked the wagon! Took him with then!’

Said Rickert, giving Casca a paper, the letters seemed to be written in a rush: “Casca, I told Rickert to find you! Go find Judeau, Pippin, and Guts, and tell them I was taken by the city guard, not the gang we saw taking those people to the apostle. The mayor likely wants to hand me to the apostle himself. They’ll know what to do. And STAY OUT OF IT! For your good, as well as your child’s.”. Casca, distraught, put the paper on her pocket and ran back to the wagon with Rickert. As the two rushed back to the wagon, Judeau, with the hostages from the fort alongside him, reached the back entrance of the city.

‘Now all of you go back to your houses and stay inside. Don’t bring attention to you, if any of the bandits show up, you hide and leave your doors unlocked, so no one suspects anything.’

Said Judeau, sending the people he rescued away. As he reached the place their left, he saw that the wagon wasn’t there, and then he saw Guts and Pippin coming back calmly on one side of the street, Casca with Rickert desperately running on the other.

‘Where’s the wagon? Where’s Griffith?’

Asked Guts, noticing the commotion.

‘They took him, the city guard!’

Said Casca, handing him Griffith’s note. Guts was angry:

‘Fuck me! Alright, Rickert, Judeau and Pippin, you go take Griffith out, I’ll stay here. No doubt the apostle is on its way.’

‘He is, with his entire crew! A giant snake, from what I could see.’

Said Judeau. Guts stared at the entrance, the Dragon Slayer on his right hand, a small bag on his left prosthetic hand:

‘Well, let’s hope these work! I’m betting my life on these little balls of yours, Rickert!’

‘Just make sure to hit him in a weak spot, like the eyes! It won’t kill him, but it might give an opening. Let’s get Griffith back.’

Said Rickert, heading with Pippin and Judeau to city hall. Casca unsheathed her sword.

‘Now we wait…’

She said.

‘Now,  ** I ** wait! You got to a tavern on the other side of the town, stay out of danger.’

Said Guts, concerned. Casca frowned:

‘And leave you to fight the apostle and his men alone? I lost so much to those demons, I not losing you too!’

She said, scared. Guts could see that the horrors of the Eclipse still haunted her, just as much as it haunted him. He hugged her:

‘Didn’t I told you already? I wanna hold you…’

He reached his right hand to her, caressing her stomach over her black armor:

‘… Hold you both, thousands of times! We are not even in the hundreds! I’m not dying before that!’

Said Guts, grasping Casca’s chin, and kissing her. As he let go, a quick sting came to his neck and her chest. Their brands were bleeding. Guts sighed:

‘I’ll go for the apostle! Cover my ass!’

Said Guts, laying the Dragon Slayer on his shoulder.

‘Covering your sorry ass is what I do every day!’

Said Casca, taking an aggressive stance with her bastard sword. They knew the snake apostle was drawing near. At the center of the city, Griffith as being dragged by his arms, his body aching and limp.

‘Griffith the White Hawk… Accused by the great King Louis XVI of the seduction, rape, and attempted kidnapping of the sweet and innocent Princess Charlotte Beatrix Marie Rhody Wyndham. I, the lord mayor of Koka, in the sight of God and men, sentence you to be taking by our good baron, so that he may take the reward for your capture. As for your group of bandits, they are to be summarily executed, and our good people can finally rest knowing the causes of their pains are properly punished!”

Said the small, old man, wearing fine robes, surrounded by guards. “By that, you mean ‘I’ll be safe from the apostle.’, isn’t it, My Lord?”, Griffith thought, a little ironic smirk hiding in the darkness of his mask. He was calm, he knew at that moment, Judeau was in the bushes around city-hall, waiting for an opportune moment to attack. He looked around, on the alleys, trees, and bushes, wondering from where the attack was gonna come, so he could get out of the way. Finally, he spotted a little, quick bronze glim on the left. Griffith looked at the smallest bush, nodded, and two throwing knives came from the bush, lodging on the throats of the two guards holding him. Being free from the guards, Griffith used the, admittedly little strength he had, and rolled just out of reach.

‘NOW, PIPPIN!’

Shouted Rickert, throwing his bombs at the guards from a tree, injuring most of them, creating a big curtain of smoke, while Pippin came from one of the alleys, hitting heads and legs on his way to Griffith.

‘Let’s go back to Guts!’

Said Pippin, laying Griffith on his shoulder, Rickert, and Judeau behind in, throwing knives and shooting bolts at the guards.

‘THEY ARE ESCAPING! GRAB HIM! HURRY, BEFOR…’

Screamed the mayor, in despair, when everyone started hearing. A quick sting came to Judeau’s hand, Griffith’s forehead and Pippin’s arm. Their brands started to bleed.

‘Drums… THE APOSTLE IS COMING!’

Shouted Pippin. As the four ran back to the entrance of the city, Casca and Guts could hear the drums growing louder and louder. Chants and warcries, hooves of horses, the terrified screams and moans of the people inside their houses, and it came. The entire bandit group, 50 men at least, and the very tall Snake Baron with then, caring a long halberd.

‘Kill the other hawks, find the Denier. Fuck the whore until she’s dead!’

Said the Baron, calm. His men charged at then, “Let’s hope these work…”, Guts thought, throwing the bombs as then, causing most of them to fall from their horses, injured and confused by the bombs. Guts and Casca attacked, Casca stabbing and hitting their heads and torsos, Guts swinging and chopping up to five men at once. Finally, the Baron got tired of his men’s incompetence, charging at Guts with his halberd. Guts rolled out of the way, and cut the Baron’s horse’s head off, forcing him on the ground. The Baron attacked again, the large halberd and the Dragon Slayer clashing and sparking, while Casca took care of the rest of the bandits when she got jumped by a large and fat one, pinning her to the ground.

‘CASC…’

Screamed Guts, getting distracted, and the Snake Baron hit Guts with his forearm, launching him against a surrounding house. Casca struggled to get the bandit of her, when suddenly, a knife flew straight into his eye, blinding him, and a war hammer to the face finished the job. Pippin quickly helped Casca up, handed Griffith to her, and charged at the Baron, Judeau and Rickart shooting bolts and throwing knives at him. The Baron smirked, the projectiles weren’t a problem. He parried Pippin’s attack with one hand, kicking him away, punching Casca to the side and lifting Griffith like a trophy.

‘So, this broken excuse of a man is the Denier? You don’t seem like the man the others speak of, the one meant to be the fifth angel, the one who broke causality! I’m disappoint...’

The Baron’s words were cut short. He was blasted into the building by a cannonball from Guts.

‘These assholes don’t know when to shut the fuck up…’

Said Guts, getting up. He took the Dragon Slayer, picked Griffith of the ground, and laid him just out of the battle. Griffith looked at his friends, feeling impotent, “Carried around like a baby, being constantly tormented by the demonic embodiment of my darkest thoughts, all my tendons fucked, mute and missing a hand… At least it’s not my good hand… Where’s the legendary white hawk now, Gaston…?”, Griffith ironized to himself, remembering his raider’s final words.

‘You lot were more entertaining than I expected, Black Hawks! But it’s time to end this…’

Said the Baron, but his voice was now in a higher pitch and louder, coming from a very long neck. The Snake was in his apostle form, a giant, snake-like beast on all-fours. Judeau threw two knives at him; they just bounced off the apostle’s scales. Pippin charged at his front legs, the apostle grabbed Pippin and threw him against a wall. Guts attacked at its head, the long neck curled and snapped out of the way of the sharp slab of iron. The Snake snapped at Guts, biting into his shoulder, and flinging him far, close to Griffith. Griffith dragged himself to the dazed Guts, the Snake coming close, ignoring the desperate attacks of the other Black Hawks:

‘This little game is over, and so are your pathetically short and pointless lives! The Black Swordsman first…’

Said the Snake apostle, and Griffith noticed. Fleshy, pink, and slimy, the face of the Snake apostle inside of its mouth. He started pointing at mouth opening in his helmet, Guts, getting up, looked at his gesture, and he understood:

‘The bombs…’

Said Guts, taking two bombs from the bag in his belt, putting then on his steel hand.

‘Wanna piece of me, bitch? Just watch out, people say I’m very hard on the chew…’

Said Guts, taunting the apostle. The snake laughed and snapped at Guts, which was exactly what he wanted. Guts punched with his left hand, getting it deep in the Snake’s face, and grabbed onto the Dragon Slayer with the right hand. He pushed the string of the arm cannon, it was empty, but he only needed the steel hand to close, which it did, detonating the bombs inside of the mouth. The apostle screeched in pain, blinded by the explosion. It was the opening Guts wanted, he flanged himself up, grabbing on to the Dragon Slayer, and brought it down on to the apostle’s neck, cutting him open from the gullet to its entrails. The Snake apostle contorted, gagged, and fell to the floor, dead. Guts sat down, tired. Casca ran towards him, hugging him, relieved.

‘Are you alright, Griffith?’

Asked Guts, taking his friend off the ground. Griffith nodded, grabbing on the Guts’ shoulder. As the Black Hawks were recovering their breaths, faces and voices started surrounding then, the people of Koka, citizens and guards alike, looked at the slaughtered bandits, their monstrous leader butchered, and the six people who brought them down.

‘Arrest them! In the name of your king!’

Said the mayor, coming through the crowd. All looked at each other.

‘The blonde man saved us from the Baron!’

Said a little girl that Judeau rescued. The tavern owner and his daughter came forward as well:

‘If it wasn’t for swordsman and war-hammerer, I’d have lost my girl…!’

Guts gave a little smug smile.

‘…Where were you when we needed help, my lord?’

The cacophony of people talking about the small mercenary group that came into their town was calm but easy to hear. The mayor was nervous:

‘THE KING DEMANDS THE REMAINS OF THE BAND OF THE HAWK TO BE DELIVERED TO JUSTICE!’

‘You didn’t seem to be that keen on justice when it came to a bunch of bandits!’

Said Casca, sarcastically. Judeau stepped forward:

‘Look, we came for supplies and maybe some coin! We don’t want any more trouble than we already had. Can you people just say were our wagon and the closest market are, we get what need and get out before sundown?’

All went quiet for a few seconds.

‘Your wagon and horse are at the stables; tell the quartermaster that Captain Levi allowed you to retrieve it. As for the market, unfortunately, most merchants have been either killed by the bandits or locked themselves in fear. Men, stand back!’

Said the captain of the guard. The mayor sharply turned:

‘I ORDER YOU TO ARREST THESE TRAITORS!’

The mayor shrieked.

‘As you wish, sire! I’ll send a raiding team after them. Tomorrow! Today we have been heavily damaged by the attack!’

Said the captain. The Black Hawks didn’t wait to see the outcome of this discussion, opting to just take their wagon back from the stables.

‘Wait!’

A man came running after the Hawks, as they were about to make a quiet exit. It was the tavern owner, his daughter, and another man with him.

‘Here, take these! A cask of ale, dried meat, and bread! Thank you for everything!’

Said the tavern owner, handing the cask of ale to Pippin. Rickert picked the bags of meat and bread, nodding.

‘Don’t mention it! And do try to get a better mayor next time!’

Said Guts, heading inside the wagon. Griffith gave a paper to the young girl, knocked on the wood of the wagon twice, and with Casca at the helm, they headed off the town, all it could be heard from them was a discussion about who was going to stand guard that night. The girl opened the paper “Remember the ones who saved you. The ever mournful remains of the Band of the Hawk, the Branded Ones, the Black Hawks.”.


	2. Green Finch and Linnet Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, Mateus Cristian here again, with another chapter. I hope you all enjoy it, leave a comment so I may know what you think, and until next time.

‘…Lord Griffith…’

Whipped the young girl, sleeping in her high, silk feather bed. It has been like that for over a year. Admiration, guilt, desire, and despair, all mixing in princess Charlotte’s mind. It was early on a very cold and rainy night, just like that one night Griffith made his way into her chambers one year prior. A memory made bitter by the actions of the man she refused to call father.

‘Your majesty…?’

Said Charlotte’s servant, Anna, at the door. Anna spent the last year in a pure state of worry for her young mistress. Seeing Charlotte as she grows thinner from under eating, as she cries every day, unable to do anything.

‘GO AWAY!’

Screamed Charlotte, as she always did early in the morning. Anna sighed:

‘Your majesty, you need to eat… _Do you think Lord Griffith would like to see you like that?_ ’

Whispered Anna. She wouldn’t dare the risk of being heard uttering Griffith’s word inside the castle, but at the same time, she knew it was the only way to take Charlotte out of her distraught and hopeless mind. Charlotte unlocked the door quickly, Anna entered with her plate of food.

‘Here we go your majesty, oats with strawberries and grapes, a goblet of southern red…’

Said Anna, handing Charlotte the plate of food. The young princess was not interested in the slightest in the cereals, fruits, and wine before her, but she pushed herself to eat. After finishing eating her meal, she slowly dressed up in a blue dress; sat to her large window, and there stayed for a few hours, as she always did for the last year, at the sound of the greenfinch and linnet bird she had in a cage by the window, hoping that, in among the flashes of the lighting strikes, Griffith would be standing in trees, not to enter like last time, but to take her with him. Finally, she decided to stretch her legs, so she put some seeds in the cage of her bird, and with Anna accompanying her, she got out of her chambers, walking around the castle. Charlotte walked without a reason or goal. She didn’t head to the library, for books have lost all splendors for her, she didn’t head to the stage in the castle, for she saw the beauty in music and acting no longer, and avoided the throne room, so she didn’t need to see the man she saw as a monster.

‘Excuse, me, your majesty.’

Said a strong voice. Charlotte looked at the man that called her. He was a tall man, with short dark brown hair and a well-trimmed beard, in a celebratory armor.

‘Lord Laban…’

Said Charlotte, meekly. Laban could see the pure sadness on Charlotte’s eyes and could guess the reason. He sighed:

‘Well… majesty, if it didn’t bother you, I wish to know where your fa…’

And he noticed Anna making a sigh for him to stop. He rephrased himself:

‘… You grace the King is?’

He asked. Charlotte looked down:

‘…At the throne room…’

She said quietly. As she said it, the doors of the main entrance opened. The castle crier came forward, announcing the people coming in:

‘IN THE SERVICE OF THE HOLY CITY, THE COMMANDER OF THE HOLY IRON CHAIN KNIGHT, FARNESE DE VANDIMION! ACCOMPANYING COMMANDER FARNESE, HERALD OF ARMS SERPICO!’

Shouted the crier, as the two knights came in. Both of them were blonde, the woman had an aura of authority and hardness from her blue eyes to the two symmetrical bums on her head. The young man seemed the complete opposite of that, calmness and levity in his face and his loose locks covering part of his face.

‘Lady Farnese.’

Said Laban, bowing in reverence, as Farnese approached.

‘Lord Laban. Your majesty Charlotte, it’s a pleasure to meet you personally.’

Said Farnese, quickly and sharply. Serpico was less formal:

‘You’re about as beautiful as said to be, your majesty!’

Said Serpico, calmly. Charlotte quickly.

‘Lord Laban, Commander Farnese!’

Said a new voice. The owner of the voice was short, fat, and bald, with a very wide nose.

‘Good to see you again, Lord Laban, your majesty Charlotte. A pleasure to meet you personally, Commander Farnese, I’m the minister, Foss. Would you please, follow me? Your grace King Louis awaits you both, so we can discuss the matter at hand!’

He said. Farnese nodded and followed with Serpico close behind. Laban sighed:

‘Forgive me for the interruption on your time of ledger, your majesty.’

Said Laban, glumly, seeing the sadness in Charlotte’s face. It was too much for him. He came close to Charlotte, whispered in her ear:

‘ _Minister Foss called us for news we received about Lord Griffith! The king and the Holy See want to know of his current situation! It seems your grace still hunts him down! Forgive me, your majesty._ ’

Lord Laban’s voice tone was enough for Charlotte to know he was on Griffith’s side. Laban nodded at her and left Charlotte.

‘Your majesty…? Charlotte…?’

Anna said, worried. Charlotte clutched her chest, “Lord Griffith…? What’s happening to you?’, she thought, in dismay. Finally, she decided on what to do. She knew of one of the many secret exits of the castle, just outside the castle, that was connected to the throne room, a fake door behind the throne itself, by the garden. She ran out of the castle:

‘CHARLOTTE! YOU’LL GET A COLD!’

Screamed Anna, seeing Charlotte getting drenched by the rain as soon as she got out of the castle. Charlotte ignored the calls of her maid, opening the trap door covered by grass, entering the passage. She walked in the darkness for a few minutes; until he hears a voice she never wanted to hear again:

‘Tell me what you know, commander! What is that… That vile demon masquerading as a human up to?!’

King Louis XVI, his voice raspy and weak, as if it came from a sick 80-year-old man. Charlotte leaned on the fake wall, carefully, so that the wall didn’t spin open, revealing her.

‘Your grace, as you probably already know, three months ago, the troop of knights you send after the Band of the Hawk, were all found dead. That was the last sighting of the Band of the Hawk in the last three months.’

Said Farnese. The king nodded, having received the news less than a week after the incident. Farnese continued:

‘Well, your grace, I inform you that I’ve found the Band of the Hawk. All dead.’

Said Farnese. Charlotte gasped, holding her mouth not to scream in despair. Farnese continued:

‘It was a lake of blood. “A red lake will appear the west of the city.”, the book of revelation says! And there was the full solar eclipse around the same time. The fifth full solar eclipse in the last thousand years, since the fall of King Gaiseric. “The sun dies five time…”. I’m sure an ally of the holy city knows the prophecy.’

Farnese said. The King nodded. Charlotte also understood what Farnese was talking about, having read the entire Holy See Bible 3 times at that point in her life:

_“The revelations say that when the sun dies five times, a red lake will appear to the west of the city with a name both new and old._

_It is proof that the fifth angel will alight._

_The angel is the Hawk of Darkness._

_The master of the sinful black sheep, the king of the blind white sheep._

_The one who shall call upon the world an age of darkness.”_

Charlotte knew those worlds quite well, but she didn’t understand what Griffith’s possible death could have to do with it. Farnese continued:

‘This was enough to concern all who kneel before God, seeing the signs of the coming of the Hawk of Darkness happening, but that was all we had. Until two weeks ago. Lord Laban?’

Farnese gave space to Laban. The Lord stood before his king:

‘Your grace, forgive me for giving this news. I know how anything concerning Griffith disturbs you, especially for what he did to your majesty the princess, but as the Lord Regent of Western Lands of Midland, I see as my duty to inform you. Two weeks ago, the mayor of Koka send me a note, warning me of sight of Griffth!’

Charlotte sighed in relief. “Lord Griffth’s alive…”, she thought. Laban continued:

‘He travels with six people alongside him. The descriptions of one of these companions fit with the Band of the Hawk’s raiding captain, Guts, how allegedly killed up to 32 of the bandits that harassed the city with a huge sword he carries. They currently call themselves “The Black Hawks”, according to a peasant in the town. They were last seen heading north.’

Said Laban. The king started shaken, his eyes covered by the shade of his brow. Farnese stepped forward again:

‘I think you can guess why I’m here, isn’t it, your grace? The eclipse, the lake of blood, their new names. The signs are clear: Griffith is…’

‘THE HAWK OF DARKNESS!’

Roared King Louis, finally snapping:

‘HOW COULD I’VE BE SO BLIND?! I SHOULD HAVE SEEN THROUGH HIS MASQUERADE OF MESSIAH, LEADING US TO OUR DOWNFALL LIKE SHEEP! THAT BASTARD! THAT LOWLIFE LITTLE SHIT! I SHOULD'VE LISTENED TO MY BROTHER, GOD HAVE HIM! HE’LL PAY! I’LL MAKE HIM PAY!’

He shouted and snared. Laban as shocked and horrified, Charlotte was scared and worried. Farnese stood firm:

‘Your grace, I came to ask full jurisdiction in the territory Midland to the Holy Chain Knights. So we may stop the Hawk of Darkness before the Age of Darkness is upon us!’

Said Farnese. The king franticly nodded:

‘Yes… Do your duty knowing the people and armies of Midland are with you, Commander! All I ask is that the Hawk of Darkness is brought back to me! As for his group of heretics, do as you wish! I’ll send word to a Count in the north, Vlad Tepes, he’s already doing God’s work, hunting down heretics, after his wife was murdered by them. He’ll be of great help, while I prepare my forces!’

‘It will be done, your grace! Thank you, for showing yourself as the true son of God, like all in the royal family tree of Midland.’

Said Farnese, formally. Charlotte decided she heard enough, quickly coming out of the secret tunnel, running to her room, and locking herself in.

‘YOUR MAJESTY?! DID SOMETHING HAPPENED?!’

Screamed a guard that saw her.

‘GET OUT OF MY DOOR! I WANNA BE ALONE! TELL ANNA TO COME HERE, AND GET OUT!’

Shouted Charlotte. “They think Lord Griffith is the Hawk of Darkness… No… They’re wrong… And now the Holy Chain Knights have jurisdiction over the whole country… I must save Lord Griffith! But how…?’, she thought, pacing through her entire room.

‘Your majesty, what happened?’

Said Anna, quickly taking a towel from the closet, draping it over Charlotte. The girl was in a pure panic:

‘I… I-I want a map… of the country!’

She said. Anna quickly left the room, and came back with a small, simple map. Charlotte yanked the map from the maid’s hand, reading in a state of panic, “Koka is in Lord Laban’s Western Lands…here… they headed north, the only proper pathway from Koka heading north leads to… Oh God… They’re heading straight to Count Vlad Tepes’s county!’

‘Anna, I need you to prepare horses, and a cart! I’m going after Lord Griffith!’

She said, firmly. Anna was stunned:

‘Your Majesty…? You can’t do that! There’s nothing we can do…’

‘WHY CAN’T I?! LADY CASCA SEEMED VERY ABLE!’

Screamed Charlotte, remembering of the warrior woman in the Band of the Hawk.

‘She trained as a warrior for years, my lady! I understand your wish, I really do, but if you go alone, you’ll die for sure!’

Said Anna. Charlotte stopped pacing around, angry. She knew Anna was right. She needed help to put on her dress right, let alone travel to the other side of the country. And then it dawned on her.

‘If I go alone… Thank you, Anna! I know what to do…’

Charlotte bolted out of her room. Her mind was clear, she knew the next step.

‘FATHER!’

She shouted, entering the throne room, as Farnese was about to leave. All stared at her. The king trembled, seeing his daughter, who has been avoiding him ever since Griffith escaped, standing before him again. Charlotte felt her body freeze, seeing the man that over a year prior tried to rape her, right before her again. She breathed, “It’s for Lord Griffith…”, she thought, stepping forward:

‘Forgive me, father, for being so blind…I was listening… For the last few months, after I… foolishly helped Lor… That… that traitor Griffith escape, I blinded myself from the obvious truth, but now… thanks to Commander Farnese’s words, I can see the Hawk of Darkness was trying to use me as means to bring our people to the age of darkness.’

Laban and Foss both had no idea of how to answer to Charlotte’s sudden change of mind. Farnese looked on intrigued. Serpico gave a coy smile, quickly understanding Charlotte’s true intentions. The king got up:

‘My sweet little girl… You have nothing to apologize to! We were all tricked by the words of that scoundrel! Come here, my dear.’

The king said stretching his arms, his eyes filled with tears. Charlotte gaged. She didn’t want to be near that man. She was about to run away, when she remembered why she was there. Mustering all her strength, she walked towards the king, and filling extreme disgust, hugged him, her eyes closed, so she wouldn’t face him.

‘I want to go with the Holy Chain Knights, so I can see him pay, father! For what he did to me… To you... To his companions, who trusted him with their lives… To us all! I WANT HIM TO DIE FOR RAPING ME!’

She screamed, hiding her face from him, so no one would realize she actually talked of the king himself. The king was moved:

‘And you will, my little love! Commander Farnese, Lord Laban, I wish you take my daughter with you, so she may be there, to see her rapist receive the punishment he deserves from beginning to end!’

Serpico had to hold back the urge to applauded Charlotte, for tricking her father into doing exactly what she wanted, “This little girl is definitely more than what she seems! I wonder where this will end…”, he thought.

‘As you wish, your grace! We have to prepare for the next three days, and then, we part! And once again, thank you.’

Said Farnese, leaving the room, with Serpico in toe. Charlotte let go of the king:

‘I need to prepare, father… I’ll bring Anna with me if you don’t mind!’

‘I don’t, my dear!’

He answered, meekly. Charlotte didn’t hear his answer, she just quickly strolled back to her room, locked herself in, and there stayed. Now, the weight of her actions finally dawned on her. She was lost in her thoughts, what to do from there? How to reach her beloved Griffith before anyone else did? How to prove he was not the dreaded Hawk of Darkness. She wasn’t sure what to do, but it would be for Griffith, so it would be worth it. That was the certainty she had as she laid on her bed, planning her next move.


	3. Brandy and kindness. Wine and malice.

Hello Everyone, Mateus Cristian. I just wanna warn everyone that since this chapter will introduce original characters, there are reference pictures at the chapter notes at the bottle, to make easer to imagine the characters. I also put in there a fan map of the world of Berserk, for the sake of geography. Thank you for reading, leae a comment so I know what you guys though, and untill next chapter.

-x-

The morning sun was rising. The first flashes of sunlight coming through the leafless trees of the bog coming on to The Black Hawks’ dirty faces, the Brands of Sacrifice on their bodies stopping bleeding, gave them a sense of relief. Around them, in between the mud, cracked bones, tore down and burned trees, and, tragically enough, two bodies, one of an old priest decapitated, and a young girl chopped in half with one of his throwing knives lodged to the side of her head.

‘Forgive us… May you and your father meet your brother again…’

Said Judeau, pulling the knife out and gently closing the child’s eyes. After a few minutes to catch their breaths, bury the bodies of the poor father and daughter, and take what they can take from their wagon, the Black Hawks go back to their wagon.

‘Bite this, Griffith…’

Said Casca, putting a leather strap on Griffith’s mouth before breaking an arrow in his left shoulder and pulling it out. They took care of each other wounds, had a few hours of rest, and with Guts driving, they were finally on the road again. That is until one of their wheels broke on a rock.

‘Oh, fuck off!’

Said Guts, annoyed. Everyone got out, Griffith being supported by Judeau and Casca. Guts and Pippin lifted the cart; Rickert slithered underneath to fix the problem. When that problem was solved, a new one came. Their brands started to bleed. Guts and Pippin started scouting the area until they heard in the bushes.

‘THERE!’

Shouted Pippin. Rickert shot at the place with his crossbow, Judeau threw two knives. Guts and Pippin charged at it.

‘Oh, good morning! Thanks for the blades, these horseradishes were mighty stuck here!’

Said a booming feminine voice. There were two men and a woman. One of the men was young with sharp features, possibly around Guts’ age and height, but not as muscular; his hair was golden blonde, going slightly below his shoulders, and his eyes were green and shine, almost like emeralds; he wore very flashy clothing, a frilly blue shirt, a green waistcoat, red leather pants, high yellow boots, and strapped to his back, a violin and bow confirmed Griffith’s guess that he was a bard. The other man was much older, being short and skinny, with a round face. His long blonde hair came from a little red cap on his head, his cheeks and mouth were surrounded by a hobo beard, and his nose was round and red at the point, as if he was drunk, mainly because he was. His eyes were just like the young man, green and shine like emeralds, but his wardrobe was much more subtle, wearing very common clothes, only things standing out were the blue general coat and the leather apron. The woman between them held the knives and crossbow bolt, jamming them into the horseradish roots. She was chubby and the tallest of them, just slightly below Pippin’s brow, though her ginger hair was tied up in a way that people could mistake her for being even taller. Her eyes were bright and red like rubies. Behind them laid an iron cattle bubbling over a fire.

‘There we go… phew! Now, you lot would like some venison stew? We caught one earlier this morning, it got scared by some ruckus or something!’

Said the woman, taking a few bowls and spoons from the duffle bag with her. Having just buried a man and her daughter at the ruckus in question a few hours prior, the Black Hawks didn’t want to be near people with an apostle around:

‘No offense, but you people should get out quickly! There’s a demon around, and it will kill you!’

Said Guts, frankly. The older man scoffed:

‘What, a big boy like you is afraid of an apostle? C’mon, we even have some brandy to keep the heart warm!’

He said, raising a bottle and laughing.

‘We aren’t scared, we just don… Wait! You know of apostles?’

Said Rickert.

‘The apostles, the God Hand, that the one in the helmet is the One who broke Causality and how those four bastards didn’t like that one bit, the Brands of Sacrifice on you lot, how you survived the Eclipse, with Skull Knight’s help of course! Hurry up! A few more minutes and the spices will evaporate!’

Said the woman already separating their portions, as if they had no choice but to accept. The young man got up, taking the bottle of brandy with him.

‘To think the so much talked about Black Hawks would have such a beautiful dove among them…’

He took Casca’s hand and gave a light kiss:

‘…Gavroche Thénardier, ready to serve your every need, my dear! A toast for our encount… OUCH!’

Gavroche shouted, having his rather pointy ear being pulled by the tall fat woman:

‘She’s pregnant, you bloody wanker! Forgive Gavroche! Sometimes, I don’t know if he thinks with his head or his cock! And you are beautiful indeed, love!’

She said. Guts was not pleased:

‘Yeah, tell him to keep the fuck away from Casca before I squash his balls into a red mush!’

Guts said, pouting and embracing Casca. Judeau, Rickert, Pippin, and Griffith all had a light chuckle at Guts’ clear jealousy.

‘Wait, how did you know I’m pregnant?’

Asked Casca. The woman gave a smile:

‘Oh, darling! You’re pale, your breasts are clearly swollen a little red and you’re walking a little awkwardly. I remember how it was very well! Come, eat! You must keep your strength for your child’s sake! I’m Mrs. Cosette Thénardier! These two idiots are my husband Marius Thénardier and son Gavroche Thénardier. Here…’

She said, helping Casca to sit down, handing her a steaming bowl of the stew, and filling it with another ladle of the stew. Marius and Gavroche brought the rest of the Black Hawks close to the fire, resting Griffth against a wood stump, giving them all their share of the stew.

‘But what about the apostle?’

Asked Casca, a little on edge, feeling the brand on her chest stinging.

‘Don’t worry about them! It’s the apostle count at Bran’s Castle you should worry about! He really wants that reward for the Denier’s blood, I can tell you. From what I got, he was at the Eclipse. C’mon, eat, people!’

Said Mr. Thénardier, taking a large glug of brandy. Casca decided to take the offer and ate a spoonful of stew, swallowed, and then dug in as if she was starving, covering her chin with stew and small pieces of horseradish and carrots, and once she was finished, reached the bowl to Cosette, how giggled and filled it again.

‘Yep, she’s pregnant alright! Just be glad she didn’t make you looking for ostrich eggs!’

Said Marius, subtly pointing at his wife. Guts chuckled:

‘She had me hunting a rhino last month. And it was my fault when the horses got stuck in rhino shit!’

‘When dealing with pregnant women, it’s always your fault, boy! Especially when it’s not!’

The two laughed, and their laughter was cut by Casca punching Guts and Cosette punching Marius. Guts looked, and in front of him, Griffith held his notebook written “You were asking for it. And for the record, it WAS your fault for not seeing it!”.

‘Well, fuck you too, Griffith!’

Said Guts, putting his nose back in place. Griffith shrugged and gave his attention to the Thénardiers. He draped the notebook on his handless left arm and wrote “So you know about our situation. What do you know of the apostles around? And this apostle that was at the Eclipse?”. Gavroche shrugged:

‘Like my father said, don’t worry about them. They are harmless!’

‘Harmless apostles?’

Questioned Pippin, raising an eyebrow, making the scar stretched through his face curve like a bow. Gavroche gave him a cup of brandy:

‘Yep! They don’t like the taste of human flesh! As for the other one, he’s being here for a long time, though he became an apostle around… seven years? Don’t know, but he was always a murderous asshole regardless! He’s the local count, Vlad Tepes. It seems he’s expecting visitors soon, and a side effect of that is that it is getting hard to catch fresh meat around the town, those twats are taking all, so we’re here!’

‘But how about his real form? Something we should look for in a possible fight with him?’

Asked Judeau.

‘Sorry. We never saw him as an apostle. But I guess that’s a good thing.’

Said Mr. Thénardier. Mrs. Thénardier looked away for a moment:

‘There it is… Sorry people, but we have to go for now. We gotta prepare a welcoming party for some people that are arriving today. You lot finish eating as much as you like, just leave the bowls by the cattle, we’ll pick it up later. If you wish to see us again, our inn is called Montfermeil. Bye!’

She said quickly, and all three disappeared in the woods, almost like they were never there. When they couldn’t be seen or heard, to the confusion of everyone branded, their brands stopped hurting and bleeding. A few seconds passed, and then it dawned on all of them:

‘They were the apostles…’

Said Pippin, and all others could tell that was the case.

‘But apostles usually attack on sight, especially Griffith… And they are always deformed, but they looked so…’

Said Rickert, when Guts finished his sentence:

‘Human? Wait… was this actually venison?

They looked around a bit, when, not very far from there, they found a dead deer, it’s entrails and organs being gnawed by vultures, but they could see the pieces of meat were cut out very professionally. This left the black Hawks relieved that they weren’t tricked into cannibalism, but more confused:

‘So, three apostles appeared out of nowhere, didn’t attacks, made us venison stew, and gave us a warning about another apostle, and left for seemingly no reason… this is going to be a long week…’

Said Casca. At the direction the Thénardiers walked, on the other side of the forest, a camp was set, filled with almost three hundred soldiers, the entire Holy Chain Knights, and many men of Lord Laban’s personal guard. In the middle of the camp, there was one tend, much more sophisticated than the rest, and much more guarded, for the second most important person in the realm, the sweet Princess Charlotte, stayed there, writing in her journal.

‘If my studies are correct, Lord Griffith and his group will be reaching Lupu around a week after we do…’

She said, to the worry of her maid Anna:

‘And if you’re correct, what will you do then, your highness?’

Anna asked, worried.

‘These men are loyal to me! I’ll tell them the truth and they will let Lord Griffith go!’

Said Charlotte, confident. Anna knew better:

‘They got orders from your f… Your grace King Louis! Capture Griffith, kill his companions! What are you going to do, stand in front of the bla… Well, you took a poison dart, so…’

She said. Charlotte nodded:

‘Exactly, Anna! And I’m the princess of Midland! Even if… that man’s word holds higher power then mine, it will be enough to get them out of immediate danger!’

Charlotte said, certain.

‘BANNERS APPROACHING! INFANTRY! POSITIONS!’

Shouted the captain of Lord Laban’s forces, and the camp was taken by the sound of marching. The infantry, led by Farnese, Serpico, Laban, and a short and stocky soldier in the Holy Chain Knights, stood in front of the camp, Charlotte and Anna came out slowly. A few seconds of tension later, the banners in question appeared, the soldiers approaching carried in their shafts the banners of two blue towers with a bridge in between them in a grey background. In between the soldiers, brought by large black horses, there was a carriage, luxurious and pompous, the wood was shiny ebony, the doorknob was made of gold with a ruby on it, the rims of the wheels had a mirror-like red shine.

‘We come in peace, as servants of the realm and allies to the Holy See. I have the honor to present to you, Lord Javert Reyne, of House Reyne!’

‘Oh God, no…’

Said Lord Laban, knowing quite well what type of man Lord Javert was. Charlotte came forward, not understand what was going on, seeing the carriage as it opened. Out the carriage, leaning in a black well-polished walking stick, drinking a glass of intensely red wine, came Lord Javert. He was very young, tall and good looking, clad in black from head to foot, without a single speck of color about him anywhere, aside from a few white assets. Even his long hair and eyes were black. His skin was very pale, almost as white as snow, and his lips had a smile of pure lust and malice in them.

‘Hello, hello, hello, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Lord Javert. It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you all! And it is very good to see you again, Laban!’

Said Javert, coming down his carriage. Laban gave a light bowl, though his thoughts at the moment were “I must keep this degenerate away from princess Charlotte!”. Javert stood tall, looking at the group of soldiers in front of him, his black eyes shining at the sight of Farnese, Charlotte, and Serpico.

‘You must be the beautiful princess Charlotte, and you are quite the looker as well, Lady Farnese!’

He said. Serpico stood a little closer to Farnese, sensing the uneasy feeling Laban had of the Lord.

‘State your business here Lord Javert, for this an urgent operation, and we can’t have setbacks.’

Said Farnese, sternly. Javert gave a light chuckle:

‘Well, my little love, I have the same business here as you people do. I’m here to aid you and Count Vlad Tepes in the capture of Geralt of Rivia!’

The people looked around confused:

‘We are not searching for this Geralt of Rivia. We’re after Griffith the White Hawk, for the crimes of treason, rape, murder, kidnapping, and heretical acts against the Holy See! Lord Javert, we are extremely busy, so if you don’t mind, we need to move the camp into the city area!’

Said Lord Laban, impatient. Javert chuckled again:

‘Griffith? So that’s the name he’s been using all this time? He must have taken it from Fantine’s book, as a “fuck you” to me… Ah, he knows how to hold a grudge, and had a taste for theatrical irony… Griffith’s real name is Gerald of Rivia, or prisoner 10642, as it is in his prison documents!’

‘Prison documents?’

Charlotte asked, stunned. Javert smirked:

‘Yes, he was born in prison, and after his parents died, he served their sentence! It’s a long story your grace, and I’m not drunk enough for it! Speaking of crimes, excuse me, but rape? Geralt would never be capable of raping anyone! I mean, who wouldn’t spread their legs to him and beg for him to fuck them? And I say this last seeing him when we were twelve!’

‘You dare question Your Grace Charlotte’s words?’

Said one of Charlotte’s personal guards, unsheathing his sword. Javert was unperturbed; he just laid his cane on the guard’s sword:

‘Beyond me, Sir! I’m just taken aback for it! At any rate, here, Commander Farnese, these will explain the current situation.’

Said Javert, handing a letter to Farnese. She opened and read it: “I, count Vlad of House Tepes, hereby allow Lord Regent of the Hinter Lands Javert of House Reyne into the troops within my hold to apprehend the Black Hawks, as he shown through his letters a great level of inner knowledge of the perpetrator Griffith the White Hawk/Geralt of Rivia that could be of use. I request the understanding of Lord Regent of the Western Lands Laban of House Stark and the Holy Chain Knights Commander Farnese for my decision.”. At the end of the letter, a grey blob of wax with the brand of a dragon laid as the sigil of House Tepes.

‘Very well then. We’ll have to postpone our heading to the county for another day. Due to your status, I ask that your tent be positioned with Lord Laban’s and the Princess’, if it’s not a problem for you, my Lord.’

Said Farnese, indifferent. Laban did not like the idea of having Javert there in the slightest. Javert bowled:

‘Absolutely not, Commander! Very well, prepare the tent, darlings! And thank you for the comprehension, Commander. Wine?’

He said, offering his glass to Farnese.

‘I don’t drink alcohol at duty, my Lord. If you excuse me, we have to reorganize.’

She said. Charlotte, Laban, and Serpico could sense it. An aura of malice and ill-intent in Javert, as his very lavish tent was set up. Charlotte was worried for Griffith, “This man knows so much of him… What does he want…? And who is Fantine?”. Serpico was worried for Farnese, “He’s planning something, but what? If he hurts her, I’ll kill him… But if I do that, I’ll start a holy war…”. Laban was worried for Charlotte, “Javert is a disgusting degenerate, pedophile, serial rapist, the lowest of low! Is he planning to attack the princess…? What do I do…? And what knowledge he has that the Count would want him here?”, and while they thought all those things, Javert looked at the hawks flying above then: “Ah, my dear Geralt… Just like old times… I look forward to feeling your silky skin again… Alongside this man, with a giant sword my spies speak of! You always liked them rugged, just like Valjean was! Soon, you both will belong to me, as the angels promised!”, he thought, turning the little blue and red rocks in one hand, and a small box in another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marius Thénardier: https://nyc3.digitaloceanspaces.com/theatrenerds-cdn/2017/08/Monsieur-Thenardier.jpg  
> Cosette Thénardier: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/18/5d/ed/185dedfc87e602333c98bf5dc2b99f1c.jpg  
> Gavroche Thénardier: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/02/c0/cf/02c0cf67000a176eb9c6403909ec1693.png  
> Javert Reyne: https://musicalholic21.files.wordpress.com/2019/04/239685_272743_2524.jpg  
> Map of Berserk's world, based on a video by BOOFIRE191: https://i.redd.it/aejg9hf8ikp21.jpg


	4. The Game Begins Again: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone, Mateus Cristian here with another chapter. Please, leave a comment, so I may know what you tought and improve going foward, and until next chapter.

The afternoon in Lupu was like any other to its people. Bakers selling what was left of the bread cheaper, peasants stored the farming tools, the executioner prepared his axe for the executions of the next day and clearing the block. The guards of the City, clad in grey, waited, as the convoy of the Holy chain Knights reached the gates. Among the guards, stood a big and fat man. He was dressed in grey robes, which blended with his grey rustic skin. His head was somewhat pointy, like a rotten egg, his ears were long and pointy and his brow was a lot broader than normal.

‘You majesty Charlotte. How nice to see you! Commander Farnese, Lord Laban, Lord Javert, I bid you welcome to Lupu. I’m Count Vlad Tepes.’

Said Count Tepes, bowing to his visitors. Javert returned the gesture, removing his top hat and gently bowing.

‘Likewise, Count. How’s Theresia? We haven’t met in years, since you stopped coming in court.’

Said Charlotte calmly. The Count nodded:

‘You see your Majesty, ever since my dear wife died at the hand of those degenerate heretics, my daughter has fallen ill. In fact, that’s the reason I don’t appear in Wyndham anymore, I must put my little girl above all else, as any father would!’

Count Vlad said. There was something in his voice that made both Charlotte and Serpico ponder, as if there was a lot more to the story then that, though neither could quite put their fingers on it. Farnese was getting inpatient:

‘Count Tepes, we need to prepare the forces for the hunt. The more we linger, the farther the Black Hawks get.’

Said Farnese, sharply. Javert gave a light chuckled:

‘Geralt is many things; inconspicuous is not one of them, my little love! When he appears here, we’ll know.’

He said, leaving the group confused:

‘He appears here?’

Asked Laban. Charlotte had a slight cold sweat, as she knew exactly what Javert was talking about:

‘They were last seeing traveling in a wagon, heading north from Koka. The only proper path north, where a wagon wouldn’t be destroyed by the rough road is the one we used. They’ll be here by tomorrow morning, I think! Varys?’

Javert turned, as a tall man with long black hair, wearing a very big hat and dressed in a tight black attire, with House Reyne’s two towers branded in the gloves stepped forward.

‘Milord Javert?’

Varys said calmly. Charlotte couldn’t help but notice his unnaturally pale skin, guessing that man powdered his face, though she couldn’t tell to what extent.

‘Please look for them? Don’t attack, don’t make any sort of contact, just confirm if they are close, and come back.’

Javert said, holding Varys’s hand. Varys tipped his hat:

‘It will be done, milord.’

He said in a deep, monotone voice, leaving the city.

‘Shouldn’t one of us go with him?’

Asked Serpico, suspicious. Javert chuckled:

‘And let the Black Hawks know we are waiting for them? Let’s see from where they are coming, prepare a trap! That way, we will be able to, hopefully, catch them all alive. Geralt is important, but we can “convince” the others, and by that I mean torture, into telling us their plans. That’s how you deal with Geralt: He’s full of himself, thinks he can do no mistakes! I proved him wrong twice, and I wish to remind him that, if you don’t mind. Shall we go to our quarters, Count?’

‘This is not a game, Lord Javert!’

Said Farnese, annoyed.

‘It is, my dear! If he becomes King and orders my death, he wins. If I catch him, I win.’

Javert said with a satisfied grin, his black eyes shining. On the other side of the road, the Black Hawks finished preparing the bonfire for the night, as their sun came down, and their Brands started to bleed.

‘So… Tonight is me, isn’t it?’

Asked Casca, taking a torch. Guts held her hand:

‘I’ll do it! Casca.’

‘I’m not helpless, Guts! I’m pretty sure I can wave a fucking torch at spirits!’

She said annoyed. Guts and Griffith could see Casca was not happy with her current situation. Griffith pointed at her stomach, now having a very clear round lump.

‘Casca, please! I can see you are scared. Scared of being weak. You’re not! With all we’ve endured up to now, you have nothing to prove!’

Guts said, caressing her face. Griffith took his notebook and wrote “Think it like this Casca: If something happens to you, or to your child, what will be of Guts then? If you can’t accept that you have to stop fighting for your sake, do it for him. And me. I need you too.”.

‘I’ll keep watch tonight. It’s too hot for me, I won’t be able to sleep. You stay with Casca, Guts.’

Said Pippin, taking the torch from Guts.

‘Thanks Pipp…’

Guts looked around, hearing something in the bushes. He checked his Brand, it wasn’t bleeding any more than it already was, so he knew it was a human.

‘Who’s there?’

Said Guts, taking Dragon Slayer from the wagon.

‘I came in peace, Black Hawks!’

Said a voice. A voice Griffith knew. “No… It can’t be…”, he though. But it was. Varys came into the light of the bonfire, like a ghost from the past.

‘Who the fuck are you?’

Asked Casca, taking her bastard sword. Varys bowed:

‘Forgive me, my lady. I’m Varys, spy master of Lord Javert of House Reyne. I imagine little Geralt never mentioned me. The past is something he likely avoids.’

‘Who’s Geralt?’

Asked Rickert, his crossbow pointing at Varys thin throat. Griffith tapped his pencil into the notebook. Written it was “Where is that degenerate fuck, Varys? Where is Javert? How did he found me?”, the hand writing was messy and rushed, Casca, Guts, Pippin, Judeau and Rickert could see Griffith’s eyes from the darkness of the helmet. It showed something they never saw in Griffith before, not even in his darkest moments, the torture chamber or the Eclipse. Pure, unbridled rage and hatred.

‘So it’s true. They did cut off your tongue. It’s such a shame; you always had a beautiful singing voice. If things had gone down differently, you could have been a perfect baritone singer. You should have stayed on the stage.’

Varys said. Griffith was clearly getting more angry, making a quick line on the “Where is Javert?” written in his notebook to emphasize.

‘Waiting for you, Geralt. As he has been for the last ten years. He’s at Lupu, the city ahead. I imagine you were going there regardless.’

Said Varys.

‘Right, first: why are you here? Second: who the fuck is this Javert, and what this guy wants with Griffith? Third: why are you calling him Geralt?’

Said Guts. Varys turned to Guts:

‘To answer your questions captain Guts, I am here to deliver a message from Lord Javert to Geralt of Rivia, or as you know him, Griffith. Javert Reyne is the Lord Regent of the Hinter Lands, who wants Geralt to return to him. And Griffith’s real name is Geralt of Rivia.’

Griffith quickly wrote in bold letters covering two pages of the notebook “NO! GERALT IS DEAD! HE DIED AT THE BARRACADES! I’M GRIFFITH!”.

‘Forgive me for the memories, Geralt. But The Miserable Ones’ deaths…’

Griffith started waving away, and the group knew what he meant.

‘Do us a favour and fuck off!’

Said Guts. Varys nodded:

‘Allow me to deliver what I have, and I’ll go.’

Said Varys, who didn’t wait for the answer, just heading towards Griffith, put a paper ball on his hand and left without saying another word, disappearing in the night. Griffith slowly opened the ball.

‘Chess towers…?’

Said Judeau, seeing the two pieces in Griffith’s hand. He looked at them, the two blue towers, how they haunted his life, tossing them away in anger with the paper. Judeau picked the paper from the floor, reading it:

‘ “Nothing changes, nothing ever will; Every year another brat, another mouth to fill; Same old story what's the use of tears? What's the use of praying if there's nobody who hears? Turning, turning, turning through the years; Minutes into hours and the hours into years; Nothing changes, nothing ever can; Round and round the roundabout and back where you began! Round and round and back where you began!”. What is this? Grif…’

Griffith didn’t give Judeau time to ask. Taking the paper and tossing in the fire. He took his notebook and wrote quickly: “We are heading into a trap! Javert is likely preparing his forces to jump us when we reached the town. Guts, you head into the town through the road alone one hour before we do and get set. Judeau, try climbing the walls with Rickert, for high support. Pippin, you stay with me and Casca, we can’t fight, so you must keep the men at bay for Guts to flank them.’

‘Griffith… what’s going…’

Casca said, but Griffith dragged himself into the wagon, going to sleep. But he couldn’t. The memories he ignored for years started flashing back at him. “Javert is back… He found me… And he fucking dares using Fantine’s poetry to taunt me… Valjean, Enjolras, Grantaire… Fine Javert, you fucking cunt! Wanna start the game again? I’ll cast the die, bastard!”. The morning came, The Black Hawks decided to leave the wagon. Griffith showed the paper he wrote the plan the night before again, to remind them of what to do.

‘Griffith, maybe I should go in too! I’m small, can get them by surprise, also, I can look for the pipes I need to finish my weapon, it could be of use, especially if the apostle shows up!’

Griffith writes in his notebook “Stick to the plan. Sending Guts is enough risk, and the apostle is the least of our concerns if Javert is here!”.

‘Aren’t you exaggerating a little bit, Griffith?’

Asked Guts. Griffith sighed, writing in his notebook “Trust me Guts. Apostles are predictable. They try to kill, and if that fail, they try to kill you harder. The only thing predictable with Javert is the unpredictable. Go, blend in with the crowd, and prepare to attack when we enter. If you see the apostle, keep a watch, but don’t attack him straight away.”.

‘And watch out if you see those apostles from the other day. We don’t know what they are up to!’

Said Casca, remembering the Thénardiers talking about having an inn in the town. Guts nodded:

‘Don’t worry. See you guys in an hour!’

Said Guts, kissing Casca, giving Griffith a light hug, draping his black hood over his head, and heading into the Lupu. He quickly noticed the city was crowding one place, a tall scaffold, where a woman was put on her knees in the chopping block. Guts looked at the other people at the stage, a blonde stern woman, a young man with long black hair dressed in all black, a young girl with dark brown hair, and young man in armour with shaggy blonde hair, and finally, a giant blob of grey fat. The sting on his neck, on his Brand, told him what that man was. Guts walked into a dark alley behind the scaffold, watching as the woman had her head cut off for crimes he didn’t hear. When the people started applauding the act, the loud shouts and claps didn’t let him hear as someone came behind him. A sharp sting came to his neck. Not from the Brand, but from a stab in his neck. He quickly punched back his attacker, but he couldn’t see a thing, feeling his eyes becoming heavy, and his body light.

‘Forgive me, Captain Guts. These are Lord Javert’s orders. Take him to Bran’s Castle…’

Said a calm voice, the last voice Guts heard before all went black. The cheers of the crowed as more and more heads were put in the basket disturbed Charlotte.

‘Why are people celebrating someone’s death like that?’

She asked, distraught.

‘They must be punished, your grace! As we send them into the eyes of God to receive their eternal punishment, we rid the world of evil.’

Farnese said, full of conviction. Charlotte was not convinced:

‘That doesn’t sound too different from heretics sacrificing babies for the sake of their false gods. The God I pray for doesn’t demand blood. He demands repent, and how can one repent if they’re dead?’

Charlotte said. Javert gave a light chuckle, holding back his urge to say “God is dead, like these poor sods!”.

‘Forgive my wording, your grace, but you want Griffith dead.’

Said Serpico with a light grin.

‘It’s a different case completely!’

Charlotte quickly answered. Both Serpico and Javert knew what’s was going on in Charlotte’s mind. As time went on, the Rest of the Black Hawks prepare for their part of the plan, Casca grew more anxious, especially since she couldn’t use her armour anymore.

‘Ready Rickert?’

Asked Judeau, checking his knives and daggers.

‘Let’s head in!’

Said Rickert, hiding his crossbow into his cloak.

‘We’ll enter five minutes after you take position. Good luck you two!’

Said Pippin. Judeau nodded, and the two headed in. Keeping to the shadows, Judeau jumped a guard, knocking him out, taking his keys, and entering the barracks. After a few quick run up the stairs of the barricks they were in the city walls, seeing Pippin, Casca, and Griffith supported by Pippin, walking into the city. As they entered, their Brands started to bleed immediately, warning them of the apostle they could see in the scaffold, looking at them.

‘THE BLACK HAWKS! ATTACK!’

Shouted the Count, startling them. Pippin pulled out his war-hammer, the Holy Iron Chain Knights and The King’s soldiers attacked from the crowd, catching them by surprise, and no sign of Guts. “Javert knew…”, Griffith though, seeing Javert on the scaffold, grinning.

‘BLACK HAWKS! PUT THE WEAPON DOWN AND SURRENDER!’

Farnese shouted firmly, coming down the stage.

‘My beloved Geralt… At last, we see each other plain…’

Said Javert, his eyes bright and with a smile of pure joy, seeing the man he hunted down for ten years before him. Griffith looked at him, hatred and disgust in his mind. Charlotte looked from scaffold, “How am I gonna get them out of this?”.

‘Where’s Guts…?’

Asked Casca quietly, and Javert heard it:

‘The wall of muscle with the hunk of iron? My men took him to Bram’s Castle, my fair lady. It’s simple logic, the entire town came to watch heads rolling, so what was that one person doing in a dark alley? If makes you feel better Geralt, your friend broke one of Varys’ teeth! Oh, and Count, Farnese, the other two remaining are likely on the walls, as support if things happened according to Geralt’s plans!’

‘Very well them, take these three away, and catch the other two!’

Said Count Tepes, and the trio were shackled and taken away.

‘Shit… Let’s get out of here, fast!’

Said Judeau, seeing the plan going down in flames, and the soldiers surrounding the walls. The two remaining Black Hawks, came down, trying to avoid the forces, but they were quickly surrounded.

‘Stop right there, heretics!’

Said Farnese, leading the attack. Judeau prepared to fight, when one sound called everyone’s attention. The sound of a wall being brought down.

‘Over here, dears!’

Said a voice Judeau recognized, and the sting of the Brand on his left hand confirmed. It was Cosette Thérnardier. She grabbed Ricker and Judeau, and brought down another part of the wall with a punch to block the incoming forces, running with them into an alleyway.

‘But what about the others?’

Asked Rickert.

‘Gavroche is looking in to it! C’mon you two! Vargas, Marius, elf, it’s me!’

Said Cosette, knocking on a steel down leading into a small house. The door opened, a small man wrapped in bandages and with a hood over his head came out:

‘Welcome in, Black Hawks. You’re safe in here!’

Judeau and Rickert came in quickly, hearing the steps of the guards as the door closed and locked.

‘Hello again, boys! Marius Thénardier at your services! The poor man over there is Vargas, and the little thing here is…?’

Said Marius pointing at the small winged creature with blue hair on the table of the small damp room.

‘Wait… Puck, is that you?’

Asked Judeau, smiling. Puck looked up:

‘Judeau? And Rickert? You know each other?’

Asked Puck, confused.

‘Doesn’t matter now! Why are you here Puck?

Asked Judeau.

‘Being following two big guys with pins like yours since Koka!’

Said Puck. Judeau looked at the Thénardier:

‘Now that we know that you two and your son are, why are you helping us? Don’t apostles have to obey the Godhand?’

Asked Judeau, a little on edge, being in a small room with two apostles and a man he didn’t know. Marius laughed:

‘Not us, boy! We’re the apostles with a heart! And besides, that asshole with the brain out said it himself, “Do as thou wilt!”, and is our will to fuck them up!’

Said Marius, belting out in laughter, and chugging down a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

‘And let’s say we know your pain quiet will, dear… Quiet well…’

Said Cosette, glumly. She took a deep breath, as if she was trying to bury something inside her mind, and continued:

‘Now we wait, Gavroche is gonna give us a signal, and them we rescue them through a passage in the Castle Vargas has!’

Vargas came forward limping slowly:

‘I know I’m not much help in a fight, but I know the Count. The monster he is! I can help you against him! I even manage to take this from him…’

And Vargas showed them something. Something the Thénardiers and the two Black Hawks knew well, though this object was green, instead of the red one Judeau and Rickert remembered dangling on Griffith’s neck for years. Vargas held in his small, frail hand, a behelit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Varys: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/17/e7/11/17e7111a45ea59cdc337c3a052eadfc3.jpg


	5. The Game Begins Again: Part 2

‘So... You’re the one that took Geralt’s confused heart?’

Said a voice Guts did not recognized. He slowly woke up, still feeling his body limp and weak. The opened his eye, seeing in the dim room a tall man dressed in all black, with shiny black eyes and long and lightly curled black hair beneath a top hat, smiling.

‘Who… The fuck are you…?’

He said, regaining a bit of his strength.

‘I’m Lord Javert Reyne! I imagine Varys spoke of me last night. And you are Guts, the captain of the raiders for the Band of The Hawk, I take it…’

Javert said, taking his hat off and bowling. Javert stepped forward, and, much to Guts’ discomfort and disgust, started lightly and calmly stroking his pale hand around Gut’s body, looking increasingly more pleased by each hard muscle his touched.

‘THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IT, YOU FUCKING PSYCHO!? LET GO OF ME!’

Guts shouted, trashing around, wishing to just tear the chain from the wall and strangle Javert with it, but was no use. Javert was not perturbed, continuing to check and touch Guts to his black heart’s content.

‘As I though. Geralt like his men as hardy as an oak, just like Valjean. Not that he would admit that. Or be aware of that, Geralt was always extremely dense as far as emotions are concerned.’

He said, letting go of Guts.

‘Griffith is not a faggot like you!’

Guts said angry. Javert stared of a moment, and then bursted into laughter.

‘You poor sods haven’t the faintest clue about Geralt, isn’t it? I do feel sorry for that lady, Casca, I think, and for Princess Charlotte.’

‘Casca… WHERE’S SHE, YOU MOTHERFUCKER?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER!?’

Guts roared, remembering that the rest of the group would have come in shortly after him.

‘GUTS! WHERE ARE YOU?!’

Shouted a female voice. It was Casca.

‘There’s your answer, Captain. They all are separate cells in this hall, and all of you will be taken to a session of trials for murder, rape, kidnapping, and heretical acts against the Holy See. The Count plains to get you all killed so he can get the reward from the God Hand…’

Javert said, leaving the room:

‘And we can’t have that. Can we, Captain? See you in an hour!’

Javert leaves Guts and closes the heavy raw iron down.

‘And the other two, Varys?’

Asked Javert, walking throught the corridor, taking a peek at Casca, as she sat in her cell, caressing her stomach, clearly worried.

‘They escaped with one of the apostles, milord. Commander Farnese sent Harold Serpico after them.’

Varys said nonchalantly, while Javert looked at Pippin’s cell, as he checked the walls looking for a weak spot.

‘Very well, make sure they reach the castle after the trial. And the rest of the troops?’

Said Javert, looking at Griffith’s cell. Griffith sat there, looking right back at him, his blue eyes shining from within his mask with hatred and rage. Javert smiled, remembering those eyes, the last time he saw them, in the middle of a heavy rain, surrounded by destroyed barricades and the corpses of his enemies.

‘In their positions, milord’

Said Varys.

‘Good. Make sure they are ready to strike, and to protect the Black Hawks if things goes to shit. If Geralt dies for a miscalculation on my part, I’ll jump off a bridge. We’ll be home soon, my dear Geralt…’

He said smiling. Griffith remembered that smile, the last time he saw it, in the middle of a heavy rain, surrounded by destroyed barricades and corpses of his friends. At the opposite side of the castle, at the very top, Charlotte and Count Tepes climbed the main tower into a small oak door.

‘Allow me, your grace…’

Said the Count, unlocking the large and sturdy lock.

‘Theresia… My dear…’

Said the Count, coming into the very clean and well decorated room.

‘Father…’

Said a meek feminine voice. In the gilded bed, laid a young girl, around Charlotte’s age. Her hair was black and floaty, her face was round and pale, her eyes were large and black.

‘I imagine you’re still feeling lonely in here. So, I brought an old friend…’

He said, bowing and stretching his left hand towards Charlotte.

‘Charlotte!’

Said Theresia, sound enthusiastic.

‘Is good to see you, Theresia. I’ve missed you!’

Said Charlotte, truly happy for seeing her old friend.

‘Theresia, your grace, The sun is about to come down, so I’ll go prepare the trial of those heretics with Javert, Laban and Farnese, so, I’ll leave you two to catch up in the meantime.’

Said the Count, leaving the room.

‘Charlotte… I need to talk to you…’

Said Theresia, giving space of Charlotte to sit in her bed:

‘My father… There’s something about him that makes me worried about your well-being! Something happened to him after mother died.’

‘I noticed. He doesn’t seem like the man that always brought you to court once a month! He said you’ve fallen ill ever since…’

Charlotte said when Theresia cut her off:

‘Lies! He locked me here for all these years. “To protect me from the heretics that scorch this world!”, he says! He talks about how he’ll not allow what happened to my mother happen to me. But he’s killing innocents, Charlotte! People who never done wrong! He even killed the family of our former alchemist, Vargas, and he would’ve killed him too if I didn’t help him escape!’

‘This has something to do with what I wanted to talk to you about, Theresia dear. I guessed you’d know some secret exits from where I can that the people your father brought today can escape!’

Said Charlotte. Theresia sighed:

‘I don’t think that’s gonna work, Charlotte! My father knows the castle tunnels and false walls as well as I do! That’s the reason I'm here, it’s the only part of the castle without a single other exit besides the main door! No doubt, he has guards waiting any possible attack tonight!’

‘But they won’t attack the princess of Midland! One word from me, and they will stand down! Please Theresia! Remember when you stuffed your face in beef wellington sauce…’

Said Charlotte, when Theresia cut her off embarrassed:

‘Alright, alright! Look, I can’t leave the tower, so I’ll give you a map…’

Theresia took a small map of the castle:

‘… Your friends are likely being held at the black cells, judging by how focused in the trials father is. Luckily, there is a secret exit in one of the black cells, the middle one, all you need to open is a Tepes signet ring. I’ll give you mine! Once you’re there, take my ring, and find the one red brick, open it, put the ring in the slot inside the brick. And turn it twice to the left, once to the right…’

‘Your grace Charlotte, the trial is about to begin!’

Said the deep, warm voice of Lord Laban. Theresia handed the marked map and the small ring in her hand to Charlotte:

‘I’m sorry I can’t help any further! Good luck, my dear friend, be careful, and may the Hawk of Light guide you!’

She said, as the Count and Lord Laban opened the door, taking Charlotte with them. On the main haull of the castle, The Black Haws were all chained to a thick brick, in the middle of a large room, the people of the town surrounded, whispered, commented the situation in a cacophony.

‘This court is in session! All stand up of Count Vlad Tepes, Lord Laban Stark, Lord Javert Reyne, Your Grace the Prince Charlotte, and Commander Farnese.’

Said a small man wearing robes with House Tepes sigil. As the nobles, the Count in particular, entered the hall, the Brands on Guts’ neck, Griffith’s forehead, Casca’s chest and Pippin’s forearm started acting up, hurting and bleeding, though Griffith was too busy staring at Javert, full of rage, to care about the apostle.

‘Very well, let’s see what we got here… The primary accuser, Commander Farnese, may start.’

Said the Count, handing Farnese a few papers.

‘Griffith the White Hawk…’

‘Geralt of Rivia, Commander!’

Said Javert, quickly. “Of course this feckless cunt would start teasing me first chance he got… Calm down Griffith… You remember what happened when Geralt lost his temper while dealing with Javert…”, Griffith though. Farnese sighed:

‘…Griffith the White Hawk, or Geralt of Rivia, you and your associates stand accused of murder, treason, rape, kidnapping, conspiracy and heresy. How do you answer to those accusations?’

She said sternly. A cacophony of booing and insults took the court, while Farnese waited for an answer.

‘He can’t spe…’

Said Casca, when one of the Count’s guards punched her:

‘Silence, whore!’

The guard said.

‘YOU MOTHERFUCKER!’

Shouted Guts, trying to free himself and attack the guard. The shouts and snapping continued, until Javert jumped from his seat, personally separating the guards that were about to attack Guts.

‘Enough, everyone! Forgive me, my fair lady, that was unnecessary!’

Javert said, cleaning the blood from Casca’s mouth with a cloth from his black coat:

‘You were saying?’

He asked:

‘Griffith can’t speak. He had his tongue cut out! He can only talk through writing!’

Casca said, angry. Javert chuckled:

‘And how is he gonna defend himself while unable speak, my lords and ladies? As servants of Midland, and children of god… hehe… We must be firm, but fair! Pierre, give Geralt pencil and paper, and read whatever he writes for the court.’

Said Javert, and one of his men gave Griffith a small notebook and a pencil. Griffith draped the notebook on the stand he was chained to, quickly writing something, and weakly throwing it at Javert.

‘What is that, Lord Javert?’

Asked Laban, as Javert went back to the stand, writing Griffith’s words of “Fuck you! Where’s Fantine, you cunt?” in the paper.

‘Nothing of concern to the court! Geralt is just being nostalgic. Continue, Commander!’

Said Javert, sitting down. Farnese started talking again.

‘How do you answer the accusations against you, Griffith?’

She asked, clearly impatient. Griffith wrote and handed the paper to Javert’s man:

‘Very well: “Guilty! Not of everything. I am guilty of raping the princess, in an attempt of getting the throne of Midland, and I’m guilty of trying to kidnap her as well, but I never performed any sort of heresy, and I never betrayed Midland and its people, only the scum in the throne! Death to the King!”.’

The court bursted in madness. Screams and boos, roars and calls for Griffith’s head exploded among the crowd, and Javert could barely contain his laughter. Charlotte was terrified, “Why… Why did you do that, Lord Griffith?”.

‘Griffith, what have you done?’

Asked Casca, horrified. Griffith looked at her, the blue eyes behind the mask giving a glance of what seemed calm and calculating, as if he said “I know what I’m doing. Trust me.”.

‘NO! THIS IS BULLSHIT! Griffith, we both know you didn’t do that!’

Said Guts, worried for Griffith.

‘HE DID NOT! HE’S INNOCENT! I ALLOWED HIM INTO MY CHAMBERS! WE MADE LOVE WILLINGLY! THE KING IS THE RAPIST!’

Screamed Charlotte in despair, but no one heard her besides Javert and the Count, how clearly had enough of the mess and the waiting:

‘ENOUGH IS ENOUGH! THIS SESSION IS CANCELLED! GET THEM BACK TO THEIR CELLS!’

The Count shouted in a booming voice. The guards took the frenzied mob out, and dragged the Black Hawks back to the dungeons. All went quiet:

‘There are easier ways to commit suicide, Griffith?’

Said Pippin in his cell, just as shocked by what happened as the other two. Griffith remained calm. Casca also didn’t understand:

‘Griffith, why? Why did say that? Are you trying to protect the princess or something? We all know you could never force yourself upon so…’

And Casca stopped. She remembered when Griffith did just that to her, shortly before the Eclipse. She took a deep breath, “He was not thinking straight…”, she convinced herself.

‘Well done, my dear Geralt!’

Said a deep voice, while a slow clapping echoed through the dungeons. It was Javert. The black-clad Lord leaned on the thick iron door holding Griffith:

‘Nice trick to postpone the trial, enraging everyone with your “heinous crimes”! And it was smart of you to “confess” to your worst crimes, which in a trial held by the Holy Chain, are the only crimes they can’t take your head off or put you in a stake for immediately! Now, there’s more time for the Black Hawks that escaped to come… You always loved those risky moves, isn’t it Geralt? Even though, they don’t always work… Like when you tried being a revolutionary…’

“Shut the fuck up!”, Griffith wanted to say, but couldn’t.

‘Could you please shut the fuck up!?’

Said Guts. Griffith couldn’t help but give a faint smile. Javert ignored it:

‘… It’s a bit sad to see you like that, Geralt… Especially without your beautiful baritone voice! I still remember when you played Sweeney Todd with Fantine as Mrs. Lovett, and how somehow you convinced my father to play Judge Turpin and me to play Toby… I was so scared to go on stage… The way you kept the last note of Epiphany for thirteen seconds, to the thunderous applause from the crowd. Not to mention your time as the little bard, Geralt the White Dove, with your red lute, how it made that strange, rough, yet beautiful metallic sound… Varys was right; I made a mistake to take you from the stage…’

Javert said, sounding genially regretful of that, juggling the blue and red rocks in his coat through his fingers. He let go of the door, heading out of the dungeons:

‘Look at me, rambling like an old fart, when I’m younger then you... Excuse me, Black Hawks, I have to go! As for your question earlier, she’s at home, in Rivia, waiting for you, same as I did for the last ten years. See you soon, my dear Geralt!’

And Javert left, leaving the entire dungeon in darkness and silence.

‘Now what?’

Asked Guts. And they felt it. They brands started to bleed. Loud, heavy steps came closer and closer. Griffith looked at the small graded window of the cell door, guessing it was the Count, coming to claim the prize for being the apostle that killed the Denier.

‘Hello, Black Hawks!’

Said an energetic voice. Griifth remembered that man. Tall, blonde, eyes bright green, with pointy eyes and a sly smirk:

‘Good to see you all are well! Gavroche Thénardier, ready to serve! Let’s get the fuck out of here!’


	6. The Game Begins Again Part 3

‘Now… To get you guys out of here without having to deal with the entire castle or Vlad?’

Said Gavroche, passing around, when quick steps came from the entrance to the dungeons.

‘Ah, hello ladies! Do you know how we can get out of here?’

Said Gavroche to the young, well dressed girl and the maid accompanying her.

‘Do you know who you’re talking to, sir?! You’re in the presence of Charlotte Béatrix Marie Rhody Wyndham, only daughter of King Louis XVI and the late Queen Marie Antoine IV, princess of Midland and heir to the Golden Lion throne!’

Said Anna, sounding somewhat offended by the way this strange man could speak so casually to the second most important person in the country.

‘Gavroche Thénardier! Now, the exit…’

Said Gavroche, nonchalantly, giving Charlotte a quick handshake. Charlotte was left a little confused, not accustomed to talk so someone who doesn’t treat her as either a piece in the games of the court or a living national treasure.

‘Excuse me… Sir Thénardier! There’s a secret exit into the sewers in the middle cell!’

Said Charlotte, meekly.

‘I’m not a “Sir”, my dear beauty, Gavroche is good enough! So, middle cell?’

Said Gravoche, causing Charlotte to blush.

‘HOW DARE YOU, SIR!?’

Shouted Anna, but Gavroche completely ignored her, counting the cells.

‘It seems you’re the chosen one, little dove! Step aside!’

Said Gavroche to Casca, who was the one in the middle cell. Casca stood close to the wall, getting out of the way, and then with a quick punch, Gavroche broke the thick steel door, which flew into the back wall of the cell.

‘My fair maiden, we meet again!’

Said Gavroche, while removing Casca’s chain.

‘I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not!’

Said Casca, pointing at the Brand on her chest, as it bled with Gavroche’s presence.

‘It’s sure is good for me, my little love!’

Said Gavroche, smirking.

‘Hanging you with your own entrails will be really good for me, fuck face!’

Said Guts, from the next cell.

‘Calm down, my friend! I won’t do anything to her! Unless she wants me to!’

Said Gavroche, smirking.

‘Could you both shut the fuck up? We got to hurry!’

Said Casca, having enough of Guts and Gavroche’s dick measuring contest.

‘You ladies take care of this secret exit, I’ll release the boys!’

Said Gavroche, leaving Casca’s cell. Gavroche quickly rips Gut’s cell open.

‘Do I piss you off that much?’

Said Gavroche, seeing Guts’ sour face. He rips out the chains in the Guts’ legs:

‘Relax, my friend! You’re too tensed up! You’ll not be the first man to lose a woman to Gavroche Thénardier! There no shame in loos…’

And Guts cut Gavroche’s self-indulging speech with a straight punch of his right arm.

‘Fuckwad!’

Said Guts, leaving his cell.

‘Casca… are you alright?’

Said Guts seeing Casca looking for something the walls of her cell with Charlotte and Anna, the little scar from the strike she received at the trial still on her lips.

‘Bite of a fly. Seeing you worried like that is a little cute, to be honest! Now, stop fucking around, and help out here!’

Casca said, while the sounds of Gavroche tearing down Pippin’s cell echoed in the hall.

‘I think you’d like a larger space, big boy!’

Said Gravoche, unhooking the chains from Pippin’s large forearms, the right one bloody from his Brand reacting to Gavroche.

‘Oh dear Lord! Captain Guts, what happened to your arm?’

Gasped Charlotte, noticing the jagged stump in Guts’ left arm. Guts shrugged:

‘Nothing you need to worry with, your grace! So, what are we looking for?’

‘A red brick! It should be able to be opened.’

Said Charlotte, looking beneath a haystack that served as a bed in the room, as Gavroche rips open Griffith’s cell.

‘And the man of the hour! No need to thank me… Though, I guess you couldn’t do it anyways, I mean, they didn’t even bother chaining you… Well, he’s all yours, big boy!’

Said Gavroche, as Pippin helped Griffith off the ground. As Pippin reached the middle cell, Guts found a small, vertical reddish brick, covered in soot. A quick push, and it splits in two, revealing a small hole.

‘There it is! Now…’

Said Charlotte, taking Theresia’s signet ring. It fitted in the slot perfectly. Two turns to the left, one to the right. Suddenly, the sounds of locks opening echoed behind the back wall, flipping open like a door, leading to a dark tunnel. Gavroche picked a little pile of hay, ripped a piece of Guts’ shirt, to his annoyance, broke a piece of wood from the ceiling, and made a torch with it.

‘Well…’

Gavroche said, blowing on the torch, his breath turning into a golden flame as it came out of his mouth, lighting the torch:

‘… Ladies first!’

He said bowing.

‘How did he do that…?’

Asked Anna, stunned, just like Charlotte, going into the tunnel.

‘A bard must know little more than just singing, sweetheart! Let’s go, people! Choppy-choppy!’

Said Gavroche, winking at the Black Hawks. Casca rolled her eyes, heading into the cave.

‘HALT!’

Shouted a strong, manly voice. Everyone turned; it was lord Laban, with five of his men, weapons at hand.

‘Javert was right, it seems! I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to escape with the princess, Black Hawks!’

“Of course the cunt is the one who warned them… At least it’s not the Count…”, Griffith though.

‘Look, pal. We don’t have time for this bullshit! Out of the way!’

Said Guts, taking a stance in front of group.

‘WAIT! Stop, all of you! No fighting! Laban, I’m helping them escape! They did nothing wrong.’

Said Charlotte, running towards the middle of the conflict.

‘Your grace… But you said Lord Griffith…’

Said Lord Laban, when Charlotte interrupted him:

‘No! He did… Ba-barged into my… chambers… But… It-It was willingly… I… I-I wanted it… I-I…’

She stuttered, looking down, her face red with shame, and a tear rolling from her eye. “What have I done…? If Fantine was here, she would crush my balls with a hammer, and I’d deserve it…”, Griffith thought, stretching his hand to Charlotte, gently caressing her hair. This calmed her down, but his conscious grew heavier:

“How many people did I hurt for this dream that seems so far away…? Draven, Casca, Adonis, Guts, Charlotte, Corkus, Gaston, Pippin, Judeau, Rickert… The rest Band of the Hawk, dead because my mistakes led them the clutches of hell itself… Just like with The Miserable Ones and The Black Sabbath… What would Valjean, Enjolras, Grantaire, Marco, Jaskier, Lydia, Eponine, and all the others think of me…? Am I doomed to destroy all? To become Femto? Am I a good man? Am I a demon…? Where in the fine line between heaven and hell am I?”

‘Your grace… I understand… But you father…’

Said Lord Laban, and those words infuriated Charlotte.

‘I HAVE NO FUCKING FATHER! THAT DISGUSTING CUNT TRIED TO RAPE ME, AND THEN BLAMED IT ON LORD GRIFFITH! I HATE HIM! I WANT HIM TO DIE! I WANT TO KILL HIM MYSELF!’

She screamed with all her strength, shaking in rage, stunning everyone, all the hatred she had to hide for the last year and a half exploding, leaving the hall into a dead silence. Anna quickly came to her princess, hugging and caressing her.

‘That’s the reason your dear king had Griffith’s tongue cut out! He knew!’

Said Casca, gritting her teeth in disgust. Laban stroked his beard, pondering:

‘Your Grace… So it is as I feared… The King has gone insane, and he must be removed from the throne as soon as possible… You five, go to the camp, get the courier to send this…’

Laban said, quickly writing in a small notebook, handing the paper to one of his man:

‘… To Sir Owen! Tell him to hand to Sir Owen only, no one else.’

‘What about you, milord?’

Asked one of his men.

‘I’ll go with the Black Hawks. Any overzealous guard can disregard the princess’s words as being said under threat. With me as well, they are more likely to believe it! Now go!’

Said Laban, sternly. His men quickly bow, and charge out of the dungeons.

‘Lord Griffith, I apologise for doubting you! Whatever I can do to help, I will!’

Griffith pointed at Laban’s notebook. Laban understood what he meant, handing the note and pencil to Griffith, who quickly wrote: ‘We need our weapons back, especially Guts’ weapons! Do you know where they were stashed?’.

‘The armoury is just outside the main halls. They must be there.’

‘So we have a plan! Let’s go then, before someone less agreeable then milord here shows up!’

Said Gavroche, pointing to the tunnel. Charlotte goes first, followed by Anna, Casca, Pippin with Griffith, Gavroche holding the torch, Guts and Laban. The tunnel was slippery and narrow, the torch held by the apostle bard illuminating what was just right I front of them. The echoes of hissing and tiptoeing of rats and insects was the only other sounds in the passage, besides the steps and breaths of the group. After a few, long feeling minutes, they reached the end of the passage, arriving in a bigger tunnel.

‘It’s the sewers! According to the map, we need to find a flight of stairs in the third tunnel to the left. We’ll to the right of the main gate.’

Said Charlotte, bringing the map of the castle close to the torch. After a quick rush through the damp, foul tunnels, they reached the stair in question. Laban opened the trap door at the top of the stairs, and their where that the courtyard. No one was there; the yard was illuminated by many torches, to the relief of the Black Hawks, and the full moon.

‘There! The armoury is that little shack. Take your equipment, and I’ll open the gate.’

Said Laban, points at the brick shack tucked to the left of Bram’s Castle. While the Black Hawks headed to the shack, and Laban with Charlotte and Anna unhooked the gate’s clank, Gavroche looked up, spitting a golden fire ball from his mouth.

‘They’re out! Let’s go, dears! Good luck with that thing of yours, Vargas.’

Said Cosette, with Marius, Judeau, Rickert and Puck in toe heading to the castle through the sewers, and Vargas heading slowly into another tunnel with the behelit and a shiny, green substance.

‘Remember Thénardiers, once you have the Black Hawks with you, take Countess Theresia out of the Castle immediately. I would not be able to live with myself if I caused her death, after she saved my life. See you all back at my house, if I survive.’

Said Vargas, disappearing in the tunnels of the sewers. As Laban, Charlotte and Anna turned the clank as fast as they could, Pippin strapped his chest plate, Guts attached his steel left arm, and Casca struggled to put her gambeson.

‘My fair maiden, I think you should just stick to the gambeson.’

Said Gavroche, as Casca started to squeeze into a chest plate.

‘Fuck off, apostle!’

Said Casca, still struggling. Pippin grabbed the plate:

‘He’s right, Casca! Just moving in it will be dangerous for your child, even more so if someone actually hits you. Just the gambeson is enough if you stay mostly behind the line and leave anyone with spears or halberds for me and Guts.’

Pippin said, worried. Casca tugged at her armour:

‘Pippin, Please!’

Said Casca.

‘Casca, c’mon! It’s too dangerous for you, and our child!’

Said Guts, having enough of Casca’s stubbornness. Casca frowned, dropping the chest plate, opting instead the set of chainmail lying to the armoury’s floor under two steel pipes.

‘There. Now can everyone stop bitching, and concentrate in getting the fuck out of here before that other apostle shows up?!’

She said, strapping her bastard sword to her hip. Both Guts and Griffith couldn’t help but chuckle over Casca’s cheekiness:

‘I love you so much!’

Said Guts, smiling and quickly kissing her. Casca quickly turned, to hide her embarrassed smile and red face:

‘I-I might have heard about it. Now focus people!’

Said Casca, sharply. They left the shack, Laban, Charlotte and Anna still struggled with the gate.

‘So, the dogs are trying to escape. And of course you’re involved in this, Smoulg!’

Said a deep, raspy voice. It was the Count. Farnese, Serpico and other members of the force coming close behind.

‘It’s Gavroche Thénardier, fat fuck!’

Snared Gavroche, clearly insulted. Guts took the Dragon Slayer from his back, taking a stand.

‘So, finally decided to drop the act and come after us, motherfucker?!’

Said Guts, standing in front of the rest of the group. Charlotte and Laban quickly charged in front of the Black Swordsman:

‘Captain Guts, Count Tepes, please stop! All of you listen to me! These people, all of them, are innocent!’

Charlotte said.

‘Your Grace, Griffith the White Hawk is, by all evidence, the Hawk of Darkness, and therefore, the greatest danger to the entire world!’

Said Farnese, stepping forward.

‘Forgive me, Commander, but we need more evidence then timelines! We arrested him under the accusations of rape and treason, but the princess made it emphatically clear these accusations are false, so, by Midland’s law, accusations of heresy and conspiracy need more than just coincidences! We need a proper inquisitor that can fully investigate the accusation, we need witnesses and hard evidence!’

Said Laban, sternly. The Count smiled:

‘I am a witness, my lord. Very well, Black Swordsman, let’s, as you say, drop the act!’

Said the Count, his eyes suddenly starting to shine with an unnatural greenish hue. Gavroche could sense what was coming, and stood in front of everyone.

‘You see, your grace, I have no problems believing you opened you cunt and received the Denier’s cock on your own accord, as the court whore you are…’

Said the Count, stepping away from all the men around him. A few shocked gasps echoed with the Count’s blunt words:

‘…But he is the Hawk of Darkness, or the very least, was meant to be. I was there. He was blessed by the four blessed angels of darkness, to ascend among them as Femto, the King of Ambition. But he refused. And one should never dare refuse his fate. The angels now demand his blood! And I’ll give it to them! As for the rest of you, I’m afraid you all must die…’

As soon as he said that, his left arm stretched, enlarged, and multiplied into many slimy, veiny, slug-like arms, striking at all. Everyone flew back with the hit, some of the guards hitting the walls, being smashed by the impact. Except Gavroche, who held the five arms that came after him:

‘RUN! INTO THE KEEP! NOW!’

Shout Gavroche, pulling the arms, lifting the Count off the ground, hitting him hard into the walls. The Black Hawks quickly got up, Guts draped Griffith into his shoulders, Laban helped Charlotte and Anna up, Serpico drew his sword, helping Farnese to run into the castle. They were all stopped by the Count, that attacked them again his other arm, throwing Gavroche to the direction of the Black Hawks, his gut and head starting to inflate.

‘Shit… He’s turning! GAVROCHE, TURN AS WELL AND TRY TO SLOW HIM DOWN!’

Shouted Casca, getting up. Gavroche shook his head:

‘I CAN’T! NOT WHITOUT MY PARENTS!’

Shouted Gavroche, as the Count’s body opened and stretched, revealing a large mouth with crooked and yellow teeth, forming a horrifying smile, as the rest of his body contorted, stretched, mangled and twisted into that looked like a merge of a slug and a giant pile of rancid green flesh, with many legs and arms, and to members coming out of the sides of his head looking like eyes.

‘GOD WHAT IS THIS?!’

Screamed Farnese, in pure terror running away.

‘IT WAS YOU!’

Shouted Pippin, his war-hammer in hand, recognizing the creature as the one that scarred his face and killed all of the members of his team at the Eclipse. Pippin struck at one of the arms, smashing it, bring the Count’s attention:

‘Oh, yes, I remember you now! As you tried to save that ginger boy with the spear as I hollowed his body like a pomegranate! I’ll do the same to you, Black Hawk!’

Said the Slug Count, grabbing Pippin by the leg and arm.

‘PIPPIN, HOLD ON!’

Shouted Guts, charging as fast as he could, cutting Pippin’s arm loose, and striking at the Slug’s neck, while Pippin struck one of the Slug’s tentacle eyes, stunning him. Gavroche saw the opening, filled his lungs with air, and blew a very hot, strong and bright golden flames, burning the Count’s face above his real mouth. In the state of pain and anger, the Slug blindly hit the floor, causing it to crack, and cave in, opening a large hole, and everyone fell.

_You can’t save them…_

_You can’t even save yourself…_

_Your only hope…_

_The only way…_

_Is me!_

NEVER!


End file.
